


finding purpose

by chasingstarlight



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Explicit content in some chapters, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Unrequited Love, percabeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingstarlight/pseuds/chasingstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a hero doesn't give you purpose until you know what you're destined for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to reflect on the damage the gods caused on their kids just by not being there, because it forces them to shoulder a lot of responsibility and I think Percy and Annabeth do it well.

The first time it strikes him, he's five years old. Percy trudges along, small palms grasping an unfamiliar toy out of a child's curiosity. It's soon ripped from his hands by another young boy, his dark eyes staring into Percy's before casting him a disapproving frown.

"My daddy got me that. It's mine."

Percy's bright eyes meet his own, offering a confusing stare in return until the other boy inquires with furrowed brows.

"Doesn't your daddy bring you toys?"

"No," he utters dazedly, and a warmth creeps up his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes begin to sting. He doesn't understand why.

The next time it happens, he's eleven. He doesn't care for baseball much, and football doesn't interest him. He spends his summer at the beach, or the local pool. On family day, his mother packs the best lunches. She jokes fondly about his growing appetite, and it always makes him smile. He dives into the water with a grace no one notices and he's greeted by stillness as he allows himself to sink. The clearest thoughts find him there, and to lurk beneath the others feels to him like a vulnerable place, his treasured secret. Suddenly, an arm clutches him in the water, tugging relentlessly to guide him further and further out of the water until his back meets the sand, and he's surrounded by unfamiliar, concerned faces. 

"Are you okay, kid?"

He coughs once, more out of surprise than anything else, and once he sits up to offer reassurances, everyone disperses except for an older man with kind eyes.

"You weren't drowning, were you?"  
Percy shakes his head calmly.

"Are you the one who pulled me out?"

When the man nods, a curiosity lightens his eyes, but he doesn't ask.

"Thanks."

When they part ways, the man offers a gentle pat on the back, departing with words meant to be kind.

"You're one hell of a swimmer, kid. Your dad must be real proud."

Percy nods, and this time his cheeks don't blaze scarlet as he walks away; his heart plummets into his chest and his ribcage aches, spiraling his web of thoughts in so many directions that it nearly splits him in half.

He doesn't celebrate the day anymore.

A few years pass, his mother sees the difference now. Where the hope for affection once was left a startling numbness. She almost doesn't recognize him anymore, apart from the striking resemblance to his father.  
This time, when it hits him, he expects it. His best friend accompanies him to camp and he's perplexed by the load of information being directed his way. He reaches the Poseidon cabin with curious eyes, just long enough to stave off the perpetual bitterness that lingered. 

He spars with a golden haired girl, eyes an enchanting stormy gray. She fought with such intensity, but he proved to be a challenge for her. Percy didn't know who was more surprised.

Sleep doesn't find him that night, and he sits by the stream to muddle through every confusing thought the day brought him. The water whispered, a brief utterance so swift he questioned hearing it. The blaze crept up his neck, following to greet his cheeks and he bites back a bitter sigh until the water trickles up his arms to soothe where the bitter sting resided.

It's the first time he believes.

The next time, he's in the presence of the man they spoke so reverently of, the one whose blood he shared, and beneath the gaze of all the other gods, he feels damaged. Annabeth's not far behind, battling her own emotion as her eyes lock with her mother's. 

In their brief moment of privacy, Poseidon's explanation only left him inwardly reeling, and he simply responds with a nod, as if he understands. Percy starts to wonder just how many demigods there are. 

Everyone treats him differently at camp, except for Annabeth. She expects his ego to skyrocket, but there's a quietness in him that she can't place, and the occasional snark on her part gets a laugh from him every now and then. 

He asks how long she's known about her mother, and there's a brief silence.

"Most of my life," she shrugs, and she doesn't dare ask the same question.

He doesn't smile for months after. Being unclaimed for so long left a mark on him that couldn't be washed away, and it felt like ugliness, dismissal. 

Annabeth asks, and he laughs, shrugging it away like he always does.

He hopes she'll never ask again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Annabeth's part, essentially just her perspective on her life, her mom and what she thinks of Percy.

Annabeth's taken aback by him their first sparring encounter. His technique is sloppy and improvised at best, but his motions are fluid, and his reflexes are too sharp to simply be human. She lunges, and he's close enough to be within her grasp until his blade rushes downward to free hers from her hands. In a moment, he'd trapped her, his blade just inches from her throat, resting just beneath her jaw. Stormy gray hues bore deep into his aquatic stare, the silence biting into them just as deeply as her defeat. He dipped down to grasp her sword, returning it to her as a hint of a smile danced across his mouth. She wanted to scowl at his self satisfied demeanor, but she'd never give him the satisfaction. He's too smug for her tastes, she thinks, until she catches the look in his eyes whenever someone mentioned his father.

They'd grown to respect her at camp, even fear her a bit, and that's the way she'd expected it to be. The day the distinct mark of her mother made itself apparent, they'd expected nothing but greatness. She was young when it occurred, but old enough to understand what it meant. Pride gleamed within her at the acknowledgement -- she devoted her time to the seeking of information, and with some guidance from her mother, understanding was an easy feat. Soon enough, she could wield a sword, and with painstaking practice, her tactics left her undefeated. 

It was only until she got older that she noticed others never truly stayed. Eventually, they'd return to their homes outside of camp, and goodbyes became nothing more than a bitter taste in her mouth. Her father asks every once in a while if she'd like to come home whenever he calls. She refuses, and eventually he stops asking.

She always stayed, honing in on her skills to be faster, stronger, smarter - but knowledge couldn't fill the gaping wound she'd begun to feel.

It was a gift and a curse to be admired; some put her on a pedestal so high that she thought she'd never be able to get down. She was intoxicated by her own pride at times, her own hubris. Lately, she'd been drowning in the expectations, especially the ones set by herself. 

She longs for her mother's physical presence almost instantly after being in it on Percy's quest. She commits the face to memory - stern lips, poised stance, commanding eyes, and a melodic voice.  
The trip back to camp is silent, but Percy doesn't seem to mind. He's intuitive, but not reckless enough with his words to ask. Instead, he just nods in her direction as if to say he understands.

This is the second time he's surprised her. 

Her mind drifts to Athena again the next time Sally invites her over. She's appreciative of Annabeth's presence, making conversation and often mothering her by mending the occasional bruise or scratch. 

"Percy seems happier around you," Sally shared with a contented smile, and he flushes almost instantly.

Annabeth occasionally forgets that he'd lived most of his life so far without the counsel she'd received, until the day he asked how long she'd known about her mother.

The answer sends a flash of anguish that stays in his eyes, but never rests on his mouth. 

She gets the strangest urge to wrap her arms about his neck and kiss the scowl from his mouth, but she doesn't act on it.

To her surprise, he reaches out to hold her hand and she accepts. His grip is firm, but not too tight, and her thumb delicately trails a circle over the top of his hand - an unspoken apology. 

"You okay?" She asks tentatively, but he doesn't seem to notice what his stare gave away.

"C'mon, Wise Girl. Let's head back before they eat all the good food without us." His mouth upturned in a half hearted grin as he tugged her hand to lead her back to camp.

Something gave her the feeling their lives weren't destined to be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's definitely going to delve into Percabeth.


	3. Chapter 3

Percy doesn't spend his nights at the Poseidon cabin. More often than not, he falls asleep near the stream, its subtle melody lulling him into a peaceful sleep. It brings him closer to his father than he thinks. Annabeth pretends not to notice the first time, and only taunts him about the dirt on his cheek. He's quieter again, in a thoughtful way, and it scares her. He pretends not to notice that either. 

Sometimes he watches her as she ventures off, concentrating so firmly that the mark of Athena shines through her eyes, and he knows she’s found peace in her mother’s voice. He hears his father’s voice in the water -- the brief sway akin to such a pleasant sound that he loathes himself for finding peace in it, the calm engulfing him in a way his mother never could. It’s a maddening force, the blinding connection he’d seen in Annabeth’s eyes when her mother spoke to her, and he couldn’t decide if it pleased him to finally understand.

He steals glances at her all through the celebratory bonfire; she catches him only to meet his stare with playful eyes, a kind smile dancing along her mouth and he feels a compulsion to be near her that he finds himself questioning. It doesn’t take him long to succumb to it, and he steals a seat beside her when the others depart to attend a party at the cabin of Aphrodite’s daughters. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and he doesn’t break it; there’s too much to say and he’s not ready, not sure if he’ll ever be able to burden her with all that he’s buried. Reassuring stormy gray meets his almost forlorn oceanic gaze, and he gets the urge to kiss her beneath the stars. 

He remembers the vicious feud between their parents, and defies them anyway. 

“Annabeth,” he murmurs so lowly that she questions hearing it. 

As startled eyes flickered toward his face, she tenses. He’d developed the habit of surprising her, and breaking from the silence left her taken aback. Percy leans in, and she’s still, her heart pulsing so wildly within her chest that he almost hears it. His lips brush from her cheek to the corner of her mouth, where he rests a fleeting kiss. He almost turns, but something coaxes him to pull away, and it takes all her effort to bite back the longing sigh she’d been withholding. 

Percy walks her to her cabin, and she turns from him subtly to veil the blaze that crept up to her cheeks. He wonders if he’s discomforted her, mumbling an apology awkwardly in a way that makes her want to kiss the frown off of his mouth. Instead, she elbows him in a playful way, the words spilling easily from her lips.

“Shut up and go get some sleep, seaweed brain.” 

Annabeth thinks the only thing he has to be sorry for is holding back. 

They pause at her door, footfalls ceased entirely, and intuitive eyes rake his features. The striking combination of dark hair and bright eyes suited him. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her stare just until her palm reached out to grasp his, and this time his thumb drew a soothing circle against the back of her hand.

This time, she’s the one that breaks the silence.

“See you tomorrow?” She gives him a way out, expecting that he’ll take it.

“Yeah,” he utters firmly before breaking into a grin. 

Usually, she hates surprises. But she always looks forward to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I'm looking for a beta reader.


	4. Chapter 4

He unravels before her in the worst possible way, and she remembers it, but not for the reason he expects. 

The sun is at its highest peak, the rays kissing his face in sweet welcome, and his eyes soften in earnest. Annabeth laughs, and he falls in love with the sound.

They wander toward the stream, only to find his peaceful area tainted with a stain of violence that disturbed him. 

A child of Hades stood perched over Aphrodite's daughter, greedy fingers buried far enough into her shoulders to leave crescent marks as he shook her violently.

A low, sonorous sound rattled within his chest in a way she'd never heard before, but he was accustomed to the sound.

"Let go of her."

His stare hardened, darkening considerably before the commanding utterance escaped, and there's an indescribably dark expression in his stare that makes Aphrodite's daughter avert her gaze.

The boy only stares into his face, daring to taunt. Percy almost smiles in the sinister way that could resemble his father's wrath, but it's too easy, and he'd never give him the satisfaction.

"Or what?" He releases the firm hold, and the girl flees, vanishing into the shrubbery as if she couldn't escape fast enough.

Percy doesn't speak. He learns to bury his words, never to waste them, to bide time when action could speak for him.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the boy sneers, and it incinerates the rest of his patience.

The expression imprinted so deeply into his memory that his bitterness nearly suffocated him. Conjuring his most powerful weapon was effortless now; with the rise of a palm, thestream roared in its wake, ensnaring the boy in his hold. It wasn't long until the desperate draw for air brought on helpless sputtering, and he was immersed in the sound until a deafening yell shattered the false tranquility. 

"What are you doing? Percy, stop!"

He turned, perplexed gaze meeting another pair of stunned eyes, and the violent surge he conjured returned to the ground in an instant.

Percy turned away, shielding his eyes from the accusing stare he'd expected, footfalls departing before Annabeth could speak. 

A palm pushed against his chest to his surprise, and striking cyan hues dropped to face her - he'd greatly underestimated Annabeth's determination. 

"Hey," the murmur spilled so gently that it almost felt like a caress. "What happened back there?"

Momentarily, the disturbing images flickered beneath his lids; a young dark haired boy with bright eyes, innocent to the world and ignorant of its cruelty.

He's old enough to know right from wrong, but too young to stop it. He remembers the first time he learns to hate. The man is short, foul smelling, and now kisses his mother in the mornings and shares her bed. He's kind to Percy just long enough to win his mother over, and then he devours their lives, trampling about like a cruel dictator. He smells of beer, cigars, and sweaty clothing. His stench sours the house. 

The little boy begins to hate going home.

It only gets worse as he gets older. His mother gives and gives, but it's never enough, and he grows more demanding all the time. He comes home one night to find the hold of cruel fingers buried in his mother'stoward the rotund bully, and a sting scorches his cheek. He blinks, and his eyes sting, but this time he understands why. On instinct, he'd grabbed the vase and with a sharp crack, the cruel tyrant came crumbling down. Percy thinks about putting an end to it for good, but his mother sighs brokenly, and he runs to protect her. 

Gabe awakens days later believing he succumbed to a drunken stupor. Sally doesn't correct him, and she doesn't leave. Percy remembers considering the idea of repeating the act, and he thinks fondly of it whenever the man turns his back. 

It takes him a while to realize the violent tremors encompassing him, and the cradling of his cheeks shatter the prison of a distant memory. She flinches, and his gaze falls to find his palms gripping at her waist, clutching desperately as if she was the only thing holding him up. 

He feels like a monster. 

Still, he doesn't speak, and it frightens her in a different way this time. He hasn't stopped shaking, but his fingers loosen slowly, as if he's reluctant to let go. Annabeth doesn't want him to. His fingers loosen slowly, as if he's reluctant to let go. Annabeth doesn't want him to. 

His arms wrap about her waist, forcing her closer, and he inhales, breathing her in. She feels like warmth and a home he's never known. He's gripping her too tight again, but she doesn't stop him, knowing how much he needs this, and she doesn't speak. Annabeth only murmurs sweetly, a hand reaching up to stroke the back of his neck.

Eventually, he pulls away, breaking the silence.

"I had a pathetic excuse for a stepfather. Nothing to explain, really. I just-- wasn't old enough to protect who I needed to. So seeing that, it just.." There was a succinct pause, and his jaw tensed.

"I'm not the way people seem to think. We all have our vices, I guess."

And mine is eating me alive, he thought to himself, but as her mouth tugged downward he realized he wouldn't need to. She'd understood how easily a hubris could overpower someone, the dangers a few moments of self control could cause. She just underestimated the amount he burdened himself with -- and just how fast he needed to grow up.

For the first time, she didn't know what to say.

She gets the urge to wrap her arms around him and linger there. This time, she acts on it. He turns, lips so close they brush the delicate skin of her cheek and he's so close, just close enough that he can't stop. 

Annabeth feels selfish. She should have pushed him away, for his sake and hers - he's a mess, and it shouldn't have happened this way, but he needed to bury his pain, and she'd ease it if he'd let her.

His mouth brushes over hers, and this time it's a warmth that surges through him entirely. She tastes of honey and vanilla, and he knows it'll linger on him long after she leaves. 

"Lot more to you than I thought, seaweed brain."

A hint of a smile plays at his mouth, and he dips down to press a kiss to her temple. 

They return to the stream, sitting beside each other comfortably and exchanging stories. Silence becomes laughter, and an unfamiliar sense of peace comes over him. 

Their fingers entwine, and Annabeth presses soothing circles into his skin with her thumb. It's the subtlest of gestures, but it's come to mean so much more than comfort, and they both know it.

He asks to kiss her again, and she laughs, as if they're beyond the point of asking for permission. She intoxicates him with the sweetest of kisses, and he smiles against her mouth.

Percy sleeps soundly for the first time in months.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have to make the rating M or E for the next few chapters ;)

Grover notices the difference between them in a way that makes Percy weary. He's not very subtle the next time they're alone - the words tumble out of his mouth with such a swiftness he'd almost believed they were burning their way out.

"You like Annabeth, don't you?" He sounds winded, and it takes much effort to keep Percy from laughing.

"What are you talking about?" There's an innocence about the placement of the words, but they're deliberate, and he wonders if Grover can see the truth. 

"You know, the stares, and the way she taunts you. Everything, really. It's just a different kind of vibe now."

Percy blinks, as if he's taken aback by the observations, and he wonders how transparent the exchanges were.

Grover only shoots him a pointed stare in return.

"I swear."

There was something about the swiftness of the declaration that coaxed the raising of brows. Grover wasn't an idiot. He'd known, almost too easily and Percy's jaw tensed in anticipation. 

"Do you know what it's like to have someone look at you, and feel like they're actually seeing you?"

Suddenly, he feels like he's said too much and his heart lurches in his chest for a reason he can't explain. 

The words seem to hurl themselves into the air, and he's taken aback.

"No, I don't." 

"That's just how it is with her." 

There's so much more he could say, more than he'd expected but to reveal anything that he hadn't even told her felt like a betrayal of whatever they'd become.

That much Grover seemed to understand. Just before he could speak, the familiar sound of Aphrodite's daughters calling out diverted their attentions entirely. 

They parted ways, and Percy returned to the Poseidon cabin with swift steps. His thoughts fall to the startling rush of words that bubbled within his throat at the mention of Annabeth.

It's never happened to him before; the compulsion to speak beyond what needed to be said wasn't encouraged, and he didn't mind, didn't even notice until he got older. 

Annabeth notices right away. He remembers the first time she addresses him about it, eyes boring into him in a way he'd never experienced.

To his surprise, a sound pulls him sharply from the memory, and he blinks only to find Annabeth leaning against the door frame.

"What's on your mind?" 

"You." 

The rush of crimson creeps up to paint her cheeks, and his gaze meets her features as lengthy lashes sweep beautifully, falling as if her gaze would give away more than she wanted it to. 

They entered the cabin, and before he could speak again, she inquired curiously.

"What about me, exactly?"

She wanders, fingers reaching out to dance along the deeply imprinted carving of a trident. It makes her wonder if he carries the same pride that she does, to be able to bear the mark that claims. 

She'd never ask if she knew just howmuch of a mark he claimed. Annabeth felt a stirring in her thoughts, the subtle cloud looming over, and she just knew it was her mother's way of whispering to leave the burden of another's mindset alone.

"Do you remember the night Aphrodite's daughters threw the party that almost got everyone in trouble?"

She could only nod.

"I was thinking about you, and the things you said to me on the way back. It's funnier, looking back on it now."

Her eyes were distant, and he knew she was remembering.

\-------------------------------------------------------  
They'd been enjoying themselves, overindulging in the finest nectar and dancing, while others played in the water. Annabeth glanced over at Percy, genuinely surprised at the seemingly pleasant expressionhe'd been effortlessly revealing. A girl nudged him playfully, and it was the first time she'd ever seen him break into an earnest grin. Something in her stomach twisted. He'd almost always been curt and dismissive with her, even quick to look away.

"So, what do you think?" 

Luke seemed to come out of nowhere, handing her a cup brimming with nectar. She took it, lifting a brow questionably.

"About the new guy, I mean."

Annabeth shrugged indifferently before bringing the cup to her lips. If Luke wasn't in her presence, she might have rolled her eyes at the sight before her.

"He's more quiet than I expected."

It was Luke's turn to be stunned, though his expression was more incredulous than anything else, and she inclined her head to one side,waiting for him to speak.

"He isn't quiet. Not really."

Annabeth doesn't understand what he means until Luke dismisses himself, only to be greeted by Percy in a way he'd never regarded her. 

She didn't know if she was more irritated for discovering it, or that she cared at all. Either way, it made her scowl and she ventured off after her friends tugged her away.

Daybreak was approaching, and everyone seemed to trudge toward their cabins with dazed stares of exhaustion. Someone almost rushes into her frame, causing her to stagger, and her muscles surge with tension, turning to find the bright eyed, dark haired son of Poseidon murmuring apologetically.

Annabeth was unusually quiet in response, golden ringlets veiling her face to mask her expression. The intensity of his gaze on her tempted her to fidget uncomfortably -- but she'd never faltered and she wouldn't now. 

Instead, she turned, grey eyes ablaze with a look that stunned him.

"What's your problem?"

His brows knitted together in a way that made her want to smile at him, but she managed to grit her teeth to suppress the urge.

"Huh?"

"Your problem. With me."

He shook his head dismissively, as if the notion was ridiculous.

"Don't have one."

She turned to face him once again, and she caught the indescribably pensive flash in his aquatic stare.

"You talk to everyone else without a problem. You treat me like I'm not worth your words."

He met her stare with an expression she couldn't place. The words felt like a warm caress on her skin, and it carried a shiver along her spine.

"It's not like that. I never know what to say to you." 

He pauses, voice gravelly as if it'd taken more out of him to utter the next few words.

"I like you just fine, Annabeth. I'm just sure you don't feel that way about me. So I try to stay out of your way."

He'd noticed the shiver, and pulled off his jacket only to drape it around her shoulders. Percy hadn't given her another chance to speak. 

"Good night, Annabeth."

She cast him a dumbfounded stare, nodding once in acknowledgement.

"Good night, Percy."  
\---------------------------------------------------

Annabeth blinks, the memory receding into the recesses of her mind, and she gazes away from the trident to meet his gaze.

"How do you feel about me now?" 

She's in disbelief that he'd ask now, but it was a long time coming, and he'd given her a chance to speak now. 

"Come closer and I'll show you."


	6. Chapter 6

His kisses aren't as she imagined -- they're so much better, and his warmth drowns her in a delicious way that coils all the way down to her bones and steal her breath. It's in those moments that she knows he's hers, and it sends a hot rush through her veins. Her breath hitches, and he tugs at her lower lip, the light catching his eyes in a way that revealed the mischievous glimmer. She was supposed to be luring him in, but he'd caught on, engulfing her in a way that would make him unforgettable. He'd wanted to leave a mark on her, though everyone knew she was his, and she didn't stop him. 

Her palms pushed against his chest, forcing him back against his bed as she dipped down to straddle him. Her palms gently snaked beneath the material of his shirt, pressing against his abdomen, trailing upward to drink in the warmth of his skin only to help tug off his shirt eagerly. 

Annabeth gripped the nape of his neck with her palm as his lips found her throat, placing a series of hot, languid kisses to her throat. Her palm pressed his mouth further into her skin, and his tongue flicked out to dance along her pulse point. His fingers dug into her hips, the grip firm but not enough to cease her struggling. 

He dipped down, mouth closing gently about the skin before offering a harsher suck that sent a tingling sensation all the way down to her spine. She loves it when he's like this; they melt sweetly into a sea of entwined limbs, wandering hands and longing mouths, and they complete each other in the closeness. 

Percy turns, mouth claiming her own, and Annabeth groans into his mouth as his rough hands palm her breasts. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and he wants to worship her, memorize every inch of her beautiful body until he knows it better than his own. He unbuttons her shirt, dipping down to plant kisses to her throat, falling lower and lower still once hands unclasp her bra. 

"Perfect," he murmurs against her skin, voice gravelly with want. She exhales, expelling a longing breath as fingers coil into his dark hair, clutching him to her like he couldn't get close enough. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Percy."

She breaks into a grin, long enough to catch him off guard before pushing against his chest to force him back. He doesn't budge, and a rumbling growl escapes his mouth in a way that makes something in her abdomen coil and the building heat between her thighs makes her shift atop him. He shifts skillfully, pushing her beneath him only to be pulled toward her again; her fingers hooked into his belt, and he grunted in a way that forced her mind to wonder what other things he could do with his mouth. He cast her a wickedly enticing grin, as if he'd read her mind.  
Greedy palms caressed her thighs, and her hands fell to tug at her skirt, but he pushed her hand away.

"Leave it on."

Rough hands caressed the tender flesh just before a thumb encircled the sensitive bundle of nerves through the fabric, eliciting a breathy moan of his name that made his cock pulse with want. His mouth laid a trail of kisses from her inner thigh, and she squirmed beneath him despite her attempts to stay still. His palm cupped the rounded, taut flesh of her derriere, pulling her further toward him. He tugged at black lace, quickly disposing of it and tossing it to the ground only to catch her hues aglow with a lust he'd ignited her -- it'd undoubtedly made him feel more powerful than returning from any completed quest.

The heat between her thighs only worsened as he taunted, and a plethora of swear words in a mixture of Greek and English spilled in frustrated tones. 

"Percy, if you don't s-- oh." He pushes a finger into her, and she clenches around him, a groan spilling into the air. His finger pistons into her, and the heat between her thighs seems to burn hotter. Another finger plunges into her, and she clutches at the sheets, hips rocking in an attempt to control the pace. She's hot and tight around him, and he waits for just the right moment before his fingers curl.

"Gods, right there. Percy--"

Her nectar spills to paint his fingers, soaking her inner thighs as her hips buck and she cries out, stars flickering beneath her lids. 

Percy brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting her sweet nectar, and she pulls him back to her into a fervent, heated kiss. She tastes herself on him, and the heat between her thighs surges again - it's not enough, and he can tell by the glint in her eyes.

He pulls away from her mouth, and before she can reach for his belt buckle again, he stops her, lips resting at the shell of her ear. His whisper caused an audible shudder to ripple through her.

"Not done with you yet, gorgeous."

He dipped down, draping her legs over his shoulders. Her mouth grazed the delicate skin of her inner thigh, and he paused, nipping at the skin there until she writhed beneath him. 

The heels of her feet dug into his back as his tongue flicked against her clit. A hand dug into her hip, steadying her with a forceful hold to keep her from struggling and before she could protest, his tongue snaked out, trailing along slick lips to relish in her sweet taste before plunging into her. His pace gradually quickened, delving into her with a stroke more eager than the last. Her breaths grew more uneven with the passage of moments and her hands coiled into his dark hair, tugging frantically as wordsescape her in such swift rushes that she can barely be understood, and as his thumb encircles her clit in hot, tight circles, her toes curl. Her body tenses, and her grasp within his hair loosened. She was close, her skin ablaze, muscles taut, and if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, he would have smirked cockily against her skin. Instead, his mouth closed around the sensitive nub, offering a rough suck to drive her over the edge. 

She bucked against him, his name spilling from her lips as her sweet release coated his mouth, trailing down to the line of his jaw. Her outcry spilled so deliciously into the air that it sent a jolt through his spine. He was painfully hard now, and the mere sight of her was almost enough to coax his undoing. The sight of her chest as it rose and fell along with her flushed cheeks brought him a sense of accomplishment. Annabeth couldn't speak yet. Her lashes fluttered, gaze lifting to find Percy hovering above her with an arrogant smirk.

"Shut up," she murmured begrudgingly before pulling him into a kiss.

"I didn't say anything," he smirked against her mouth. 

Her palm trailed along his abdomen, and they rippled with tension beneath her touch as her hands fell to rest at his belt buckle. She fumbled with the belt and he aided her, dismissing the denim material and bringing it to pool at his ankles. 

Her thighs parted, and as he dipped down to hover over her, her lips pressed to the curve of his throat, forcing a shiver to ripple through him. Calloused palms grasped her, tilting her hips upward, and he rubbed his throbbing cock between slick lips, coaxing an aggravated groan. 

"Percy--"

He rocked upward, pushing into her inch by inch, and the pads of her fingers bit into his shoulders. Taut walls struggled to encompass him, and he didn't move until her palm gripped the nape of his neck, bringing him down long enough to encourage him with dulcet murmurs.

Her legs tightened about his waist as he drove into her in deep, slow strokes as if he wanted to savor every ounce of her, and his name spilled from her mouth. Her body was warm, inviting, and every rock forward sent a jolt through him that felt like an electric surge in his veins. Gradually, rhythmic rocks grew to intensified, frenzied strokes and her palms trailed from his shoulders, falling until they rested at the small of his back. His breath hitched, but his thrusts continued, and with a slight shift, he hits a spot that makes her gasp. 

"Please," she groaned, without being sure what she was asking for. He obliges, driving repeatedly into her until she tightens around him for the final time, pushing him to his own release.

They take a few moments to catch their breath, and he brushes her golden ringlets from her face. She's warmth and kindness, and a beauty that would make Aphrodite envious. He kisses her, and she smiles against his mouth. 

"So I answered your question?"

"Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I repeat, these characters are not mine, but I do adore them.


End file.
